Prince of Warlocks
by Sinnatious
Summary: TezRyo, Witchhunt AU. Ryoma is out hunting witches, and meets Tezuka, a hermit in the mountains.
1. Chapter 1

Discliamer: I do not own Prince of Tennis, nor am I profiting from it any way. This fiction was written purely for enjoyment.

Warning: This fiction contains shonen-ai and yaoi. If you don't know what that term means, you probably don't want to read this fic. If you do know what it means and are offended by it, please don't read, and please don't flame me for something you were warned about.

Author's Note: I wasn't originally going to post this on FFnet, since it was mostly just a challenge I did for a friend. It's not my best work (hot weather triumphs against perfectionism again), but it's a fun little five-chapter affair, and hopefully some people will enjoy it. I'm dumping it here all at once. I'm not really looking for feedback, since it's sort of old (and entirely an excuse to write a tezryo Witchhunt AU fic), so there's no obligation to review.

* * *

**Prince of Warlocks**

**Chapter 1/5**

By Sinnatious

* * *

Tezuka lived a quiet life of few words on the mountain. He occasionally wandered into the village in the valley for supplies, but his presence there was always fleeting and few of the locals even knew he existed – and those that did merely thought him a traveller from a nearby province who passed through the area a couple of times a year. He did nothing to dissuade them of such notions. As such, he very rarely received visitors at his secluded cottage, halfway up the tallest mountain ringing the valley.

Thus it was quite a surprise when, one fine autumn afternoon, he became aware of a foreign presence in his garden.

He briefly considered just ignoring it, but a stranger stumbling across his home was such an unusual occurrence that he found himself heading to the door to investigate. It was always possible that they were in trouble or lost, and it would be cruel of him to do nothing in that case. Upon reaching the doorway into the garden, he stood there for a long moment, observing the stranger who had dared to disturb his peaceful repose. The intruder was probably only a scant few years younger him, dressed in brown pants with a faded green shirt that helped him blend in with his surroundings, and a heavy cloak fastened around his neck with a strip of leather. Traveller's clothing. He obviously wasn't local – Tezuka would have remembered seeing someone with such shiny green-black hair in the village. Possibly someone lost after all.

At first he hadn't thought the stranger had noticed him, but when he cleared his throat to gain the visitor's attention, there was no surprise in the hazel eyes that swivelled to meet him. His breath caught in his throat, and for a minute he almost forgot to speak. "Can I help you?"

The youth merely cocked his head at him contemplatively for a moment, seeming to size him up. "Not sure yet. Was just admiring your garden. It's doing rather well."

It was a curious response. Tezuka stepped out of the cottage, heading over to the patch of herbs the stranger was standing next to. "It appears to be, but it's been a struggle to keep it going this season. The winter is coming faster than usual, and I've lost a few plants to early frost. With enough care, however…" Tezuka frowned, slightly disconcerted. He wasn't usually so loose with his words. It was obviously too long since his last visitor.

The stranger just nodded, looking thoughtful. After a beat, he offered, "The crops in the village have not been doing so well."

"It's a matter of scale. It is easy to rescue a few plants in a small herb garden. Entire fields are a different matter." Idle conversation was unfamiliar these days. He might as well indulge while the opportunity was available.

"Hn. Do you think the frost is unnatural?"

"It certainly seems earlier than normal, but I am not one to argue with the weather. The seasons on the mountain pass a little differently to the village, anyway."

Another long pause. Then… "Some people are saying it is the work of a witch."

Tezuka tensed, slightly, but did not show it. "A witch?"

The stranger shrugged, explaining lazily, "Early frosts destroying crops are not the only problems the villagers have been experiencing. The town hall was struck by lightning and burned down in a fire in a recent storm. Several chickens have gone missing from their coops. A young girl was killed in a rock fall at the base of this mountain. But I'm sure you've already heard about that."

"I had seen the smoke from the town hall after the storm, yes, but I had not heard about the girl. That is quite tragic."

The traveller waved a dismissive hand. "You know how it is. Alone, they're all just freak accidents. The chickens probably eaten by a fox, the town hall hit in a stroke of bad luck. But all of them together… the townspeople believe it's a witch."

"How frightening."

A sudden smirk graced his visitor's face. "What's your name?"

"It is rude to ask someone's name without first introducing yourself."

The stranger shifted from foot to foot for a moment, before relenting. "Ryoma. I'm a Hunter who was sent here to track the witch down."

"Pleased to meet you, Ryoma. My name is Tezuka Kunimitsu."

"Tezuka, huh? I won't waste much more of your time. Have you seen any suspicious people up here on the mountain?"

"Suspicious how? You are the most suspicious person I have seen for some time," he pointed out.

Ryoma did not seem to take offence. "Heh, true. It doesn't have to be much. Just if you've seen anyone at all."

"I am afraid that I haven't. Though I shall certainly keep a better awareness of my surroundings now that you've brought the possibility to my attention."

"Hmm, looks like I'm stuck looking the old-fashioned way then. Well, thanks for your time - Tezuka, right?" He merely nodded his assent, and gave a polite farewell as the Hunter went on his way.

It was a troubling development, but he was quite certain that with the clues he had, the Hunter would find nothing. It truly appeared to be no more than a series of unfortunate coincidences. There were no witches in the area that had been causing mischief. Of that, he was certain.

The next day, however, while working on his garden, he spied the Hunter walking nearby. Bidden by a sudden, inexplicable urge, he called out a greeting.

The Hunter started, and looked his way, then broke into a slight grin and headed over. "Tezuka. Hard at work, I see." It was difficult to tell whether his tone was mocking or serious.

"And you as well," he observed, setting aside his gardening tools. He was already wondering what on earth had possessed him to call out to a Hunter who he was better off ignoring. It was a little lonely, he supposed, and no matter the risk involved, it was nice speaking with someone else every now and again. There was also a small matter of curiosity over how one so young became a Hunter, but Tezuka was far too polite to ask outright. To do so would be an insult to whatever skills he might possess.

A careless shrug. "Still getting the lay of the land." Tree leaves rustled several yards behind them, and startled, the Hunter whirled. Tezuka calmly watched as a hunting knife sailed with deadly precision through the air and struck a pheasant that had just taken flight. Skills indeed.

Ryoma blinked, then scowled. "Just a common pheasant."

"You'll be eating well tonight, at least," Tezuka remarked. The Hunter jogged over to retrieve his knife and bird. Where had he drawn the blade from? It had happened so quickly he hadn't had the chance to see.

"Che. As though those people need more spoiling," came the muttered comment under his breath. He wiped the blade clean. "If nothing else, it was good target practice."

Tezuka raised a solitary eyebrow. "You need practice? You threw it that accurately with your right hand."

He was rewarded with a contemplative tilt of the head and a smirk. "Hnnn. You're pretty good." He glanced at the gardening tools in the other man's hands. "Ha. I see. You're left-handed too." Ryoma seemed pleased by the discovery.

Tezuka didn't acknowledge the comment with anything more than a nod. The Hunter unexpectedly lobbed him the bird. "Here, you can have this."

He caught the pheasant. It was a tad young and lean, but still a fine bird. "Are you certain?"

"It'll go to waste, otherwise. And if I start bringing dead animals back, one of those girls will probably try to marry me." The last part was spoken in a disgusted mumble. Tezuka didn't doubt that the traveller had acquired the attention of the young ladies in town. He was shorter and slimmer than the average farm hand, but he was certainly easy on the eyes, and his profession automatically made him exotic and interesting. Likely many other young men in the town would be frustrated that he gained the adoration of the women so easily, and apparently cared not a whit for it.

"Thank you," Tezuka said politely, but Ryoma just waved him off and headed on his way.

The next morning, he was in the garden again when the Hunter strolled by. This time, it was Ryoma who called out a brief greeting.

"How was the pheasant?" 'Greeting' might have been stretching it. The traveller was apparently sorely lacking in manners.

"It shall be several meals worth of meat. You've saved me a trip down into the village."

"Ah, so you're afraid of the banshees, too?" The question was asked in an innocent tone, but Tezuka caught the joke for what it was.

"You shouldn't speak so poorly of the town's girls. Their hearts are in the right place," he scolded lightly.

Ryoma rolled his eyes. "Sure." The sarcasm in the tone was obvious, but he didn't say anything more. Perhaps he did have some manners after all, but just rarely chose to exercise them.

"You're working again today?"

"Che. I'm heading further up to the peak of the mountain. This one's the tallest in the area, so if there's a witch, she'll probably be around here."

"There's no snow on the peak, yet, but the path can still be treacherous. Don't be careless."

"It's no problem," came the cocky reply, but Tezuka hesitated. It had to be a sense of responsibility that drove the next words from his mouth.

"Still, I would feel better if you checked in on your way back down," he implored. "Hunting witches is dangerous, isn't it? Especially on unstable mountain paths."

For a second, he thought Ryoma was going to refuse, which in itself was strange, but after a moment the Hunter just shrugged, obviously not caring either way. "Sure, I guess."

Tezuka nodded in acknowledgement of the response, and the Hunter was on his way.

Sure enough, several hours later as twilight began to kick in, a knock came on his door. "Tezuka?"

He opened it to the sight of the traveller with leaves sticking from his hair and smudges of dirt on the knees of his pants, but otherwise Ryoma was intact. "Ryoma. Did any find any witches?"

A scowl. "No. But then, I don't have a lot of information to go on."

"Hn. Sounds difficult." The leaves in the Hunter's hair were bothering him. Impulsively, Tezuka reached out and plucked the largest one from his head, then blushed reflexively at the unintended intimacy of the gesture. Ryoma, for his part, just blinked at the leaf between Tezuka's fingers, then ran a hand through his hair, picking out the rest of them himself.

"Did I get them all?"

"Ah, missed one." He reached out and delicately removed the last leaf, tossing it aside, then caught the Hunter's eyes. They were seemingly bottomless pools, and Tezuka felt that he might get lost in their hazel depths for hours.

Giving himself a brief shake, idly wondering what had come over him, he noted how dark it had become. "I'm glad that your trip to the peak ended safely, though unsuccessfully. I suppose you'll want to be getting back to wherever you're staying in town. It's getting dark."

"Ah, right. See you around." With only a single backwards glance, the Hunter trotted back down the path.

Tezuka didn't see the traveller the next day, but the day after he spied Ryoma heading up the mountain once more. Later that afternoon, a knock sounded at his door, and the Hunter was there again, apparently having recalled his promise to check in.

"Still no luck?" he asked.

Ryoma just shrugged. "Guess I'll have to do some more asking around." The idea seemed to aggravate him some.

"Climbing the mountains must be tiring. Would you like to come in for some tea?" What on earth was he doing? He'd spoken the words without thinking again.

The Hunter hesitated, then nodded shortly. "That would be… nice." The hesitation made Tezuka pause, but he led Ryoma into his humble dwelling, and gestured for him to take a seat while he headed into the small kitchen to prepare some tea.

He returned a minute later with two steaming cups, seeing his guest look about the cottage in an appreciative manner. "Nice place you have here."

Tezuka raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "It isn't much…" His cottage was purely functional. It was small, lacking any decoration, and the only notable features were the stone fireplace and the bookshelves that were barely visible through the door to the bedroom.

"It's simple," Ryoma stated firmly. "And cozy. I like it."

It was strange, but Tezuka was oddly pleased by the declaration. It was a pleasant change from the badgering he normally received about doing up the place, and even after so few exchanges, it was clearly obvious that the Hunter was not one to hand out compliments needlessly, nor lie out of politeness. His frank manner was strangely refreshing.

It was still ridiculously foolish to be inviting strange travellers, particularly Hunters, into his house, though. But Tezuka wasn't at all worried. He could afford to indulge his curiosity for a change.

"There's a lot of books," his guest commented mildly, looking about in interest, then picking up one from the pile next to the table and examining it. He flicked a few pages in. "Latin?"

"I translate them for supplementary income," Tezuka explained. It was a good job that required little interaction with people – or almost none at all, when you considered that Inui usually acted as his go-between, who he then in turn provided with herbs for the service. It was a slightly complicated yet rather convenient arrangement.

"Hn. People actually pay for translations of ancient books about…" He paused, squinting at the binding, "Roman Architecture?"

"You can read it?" he asked.

"Obviously not as well as you can," came the sullen reply. Strangely, the Hunter seemed a little peeved by the notion, though given his personality Tezuka had the suspicion that he just didn't like someone being better at something than him. Still, there was a glint of respect in those hazel eyes as the book was carefully replaced. "Though I didn't think it was a useful skill."

"The wealthy still outnumber the scholars in these parts."

"Why do you live up here in the mountains, anyway?" Ryoma asked suddenly. "Why not in the village, with everyone else?"

"I dislike crowded places," Tezuka replied simply. "And I like the peace and quiet. And the fresh air." The Hunter just nodded as though he understood.

They sat in comfortable silence for a few more minutes, before Tezuka finally asked, "So, where are you staying in the village?"

"The Church is providing room and board," was the careless reply. "They were the ones who called me here, after all."

"Ah yes, to chase the witch. What made you decide to become a professional Witch Hunter, anyway?" It was the most roundabout way he could think of to ask how someone so young became a Hunter. The profession was, after all, mostly inhabited by grizzled middle-aged men who blamed their misfortunes or the loss of a loved one on evil magics, unable to cope with the reality that their god had not helped them.

A shrug, and an evasive gaze. "Always have been." Clearly it wasn't a pleasant story. They fell into silence once again. Tezuka was finding himself enjoying the quiet companionship. His colleagues, whenever they did drop around, usually felt the need to fill the silence with unnecessary words. And if they weren't talking, Tezuka didn't need to concentrate so hard, either, and could instead merely enjoy watching his guest. Looking at Ryoma was a strangely enjoyable pastime. It was probably the eyes. They were captivating and easy to get lost in, and the Hunter didn't shy away from his gaze at all, meeting it in just as steady a manner.

Eventually, they finished their tea, and Ryoma stood. "I'd better get going. Thanks for the tea."

"Anytime. Good luck with your searching."

A grunt of farewell, and the Hunter disappeared back down into the valley.

He invited Ryoma in for tea again the next day, and they spoke briefly about a few mundane, impersonal matters, but spent most of the time in companionable silence. The Hunter was investigating again in the city the day after, but returned at the next sundown for another visit. Tezuka knew he probably should stop inviting Ryoma in, but it was a pleasant, if temporary, arrangement. Tezuka so rarely received visitors, and this one did not grate on his nerves as most people did, even if his manners were at times frankly appalling. The only thing that confused him more than his own poor judgement in the matter was the reason why on earth the traveller kept dropping by his hut. Had he underestimated the youth? Granted, the clues were useless, but he seemed so sure of his skills…

It was some surprise that the next knock on his door was not Ryoma, but an old friend instead.

"Fuji," he greeted, opening the door wide to let the slight man in, privately grimacing at the flowing black robes his companion seemed to favour. How obvious could he be? "What are you doing here? Would you like some tea?"

"Thanks Tezuka, but I'm not staying long. I just thought I should stop by and warn you that there are Hunters in the area."

His guilt must have shown on his face, as Fuji laid a worried hand on his arm. "They've already been here?"

He didn't respond, but his friend was quick on the uptake. Cold blue eyes swept the cottage, taking in all the details, before pausing on the two teacups on the table. "You invited him in for tea?"

Tezuka looked away.

After a beat, Fuji commented, "Well, it's nice to see you taking an interest in something, I suppose. You do spend far too much time alone up here. Someone had to strike your interest eventually. Even if your choice was rather inconvenient."

There were veiled suggestions in his friend's comments, but Tezuka was, if anything, a master at ignoring Fuji's insinuations. "There's no danger."

"Of course. I'm sure you know what you're doing." His friend sounded amused. "I'm rather curious to see this mysterious Hunter now, but I'm in a bit of a rush today."

"Your brother?" It was the only thing that could ever put the affable Fuji into a hurry.

"I can hardly let Mizuki do all the teaching, can I?"

"Thanks for dropping by," he merely replied deferentially, not wanting to get on to that topic again.

"Oh, Tezuka, you never change." With a calm smile and a jaunty wave, his friend all but glided from the cottage.

Ryoma came by again for tea that evening, visibly excited.

"You had some luck?" Tezuka asked.

"I saw a very strange bird," came the smug reply. "There's not many witches that can fly. No wonder she's been so tricky to track down on foot. I'll have to camp at the peak and keep watch."

Tezuka wasn't certain whether to curse or thank Fuji. After days of frustration, Ryoma finally had some sort of proof of a witch being in the area. Even though it made things riskier for him, it did mean that the Hunter was likely to linger for at least another couple of weeks. He found that he was starting to look forward to having tea in the afternoons with the traveller, and had been privately dreading the day when the Hunter would have to move on.

Fuji's allusions had struck close to home, though, and forced him to admit something that he'd been denying to himself from the beginning – he did have some… _physical_ attraction to the other man. It had been years since Tezuka had last felt any sort of desire for another person, so it had taken him some time to recognise the feeling for what it was. But it was there, and it was growing. It made conversations mildly dangerous, as he was in something of a quandary, given their unique situation.

He could content himself with just drinking in the sight of his visitor and having harmless exchanges over tea until he could find some solution to the problem, though. Remembering the conversation at hand, he belatedly returned to awareness in time to hear Ryoma ask, "…you see anything? It was rather close to here…"

"No, I'm afraid I've spent most of the day indoors," he replied. "Sorry I can't be of any help."

"Che. Your hospitality has been enough," Ryoma replied, leaning back in his chair. "Those idiots back at the Church would have me looking for this damn witch twenty-four hours a day if they could help it. This is the only peace and quiet I get."

Tezuka tried to look disapproving, but doubted it was convincing. It was probably one of the few times he could ever actually approve of laziness in someone's profession.

He was a warlock, after all. He didn't particularly want to be hunted just because the village had a bad run of luck.


	2. Chapter 2

**Prince of Warlocks**

**Chapter 2/5**

By Sinnatious

* * *

Tezuka should have known that it would take mere days for Inui to come after Fuji had visited. His friends did like to gossip, after all, and any change to his admittedly monotonous routine always caught their interest.

"Hello?" a voice called out after a firm knock on the door.

"Come in," he called, already knowing who stood on the other side. No one else knocked precisely six times.

A tall man, dressed in a long black coat over a white button-up shirt and a pair of thick glasses, entered his cottage. He carried in his arms a small cauldron and two bags.

"Inui," he greeted.

"Tezuka. It has been a while."

It had been, which made the timing all the more suspicious. "Did Fuji tell you to come?" he asked, a little more sternly than intended. Inui flinched, but stood his ground. It was testament to his experience.

"I did speak with Fuji… and I admit to being a little curious about this Hunter that has sparked your interest. It could be a good opportunity to…"

"No experiments," Tezuka stated firmly. "And no spying. He might be lazy, as far as Hunters go, but he saw Fuji fly off last time."

"Hm, he has good eyes indeed. As expected of a Hunter."

"You didn't come all the way here just to talk about that, did you?" he asked dryly.

"Truthfully, no. I have two new books for you." They were quickly handed over, Tezuka moving to retrieve his latest transcripts as well. As Inui tucked the loosely bound paper into his bag, he continued, "I was also hoping to get your opinion on my latest potion while I'm here. It's been giving me some trouble."

"Potions are hardly my area of expertise," Tezuka pointed out.

"But you do grow most of the herbs I use in them," Inui replied, immediately setting up the small cauldron he'd carried in with him in the kitchen. "And I thought perhaps, with your specific powers, you might have some insight…"

"What sort of potion is it, anyway?"

"It's a love potion. Well, actually, it's more of a lust potion at the moment. Still the standard first-person-you-see formulae. I was hoping that you might be able to offer some suggestions in making it voice activated, perhaps if you chant the name while brewing it…"

"That sort of brewing is even more unreliable. You'd be better off working blood or hair samples into it."

"Yes, I did think of that, but the act of getting the blood might actually make the administering a bit more awkward…"

"So it isn't complete?" he asked, curiously investigating the contents of the cauldron. While he'd never willingly drink one Inui's concoctions – having witnessed several terrifying side effects of small mistakes from the days when Inui was still an apprentice at his craft - they were impressive pieces of work none-the-less.

"It's still in the testing stages. The last batch worked for one night only. If the next version sticks for longer, I plan to sell it in the city bazaar."

Raising an eyebrow, Tezuka commented, "Even ignoring the ethics of that, wouldn't it be dangerous to put it out for sale? Our kind is not as appreciated as we once were."

"Not at all. Those who bear ill will shall just assume I am a con artist. Those who do not shall provide thriving business."

"Hn. Don't be careless."

"Of course." Inui paused, and adjusted his glasses. Neither of the two particularly needed them, but since they were friends with Fuji, wearing them had become a habit. It would be unfortunate if someone was turned to stone simply because they caught their companion on a bad day. "But I don't intend to hide up in the mountains because of the Hunters. With your power, Tezuka, I don't know what you're so worried about. Even if a mob came after you, you could turn them away with just a few words."

"Just because I can does not mean I should."

The potions-maker merely shrugged. "Well, I suppose if you are courting a Hunter…"

"Fuji actually said that?"

"No, but it seems fairly obvious from your reactions whenever I mention him. Or is it a she?"

"Inui."

"Yes, I know. I have to check. You have a tendency to thwart my predictions, after all."

Tezuka cast about for another topic to distract his comrade with. "How is your apprentice going? The snake-charmer?"

It worked. "Oh, quite excellent. His devotion to his training is second-to-none. I estimate that in time…"

Inui stayed for several hours that day, catching up on news, though Tezuka chased him out well in advance of the time Ryoma normally dropped around if he was going to stop by. His concerns were baseless – the Hunter turned up the next day, scowling and muttering about the local priest's great-niece.

After Inui's visit, things briefly fell back into a comfortable routine. Tezuka didn't see the Hunter every day, but Ryoma continued to semi-regularly stop by for tea in the afternoons. Once he even turned up after lunch and spent most of the afternoon lounging around the garden, one eye watching him work, the other watching the sky – 'for witches', he explained. Normally Tezuka would have scolded the display of laziness, but Ryoma, for his part, did keep a close eye on the sky for most of time, frequently testing the direction of the wind and changing his vantage points accordingly. For all the lack of hunting the man seemed to do, it was obvious he had some skill, at least.

His desires, unfortunately, did not diminish over time as he had hoped. Indeed, the more he saw the Hunter, the more he wondered how long it would be until he lost control of the situation. They could never have a proper relationship, but it was reaching the point of need to Tezuka. Fuji had been right. It had been too long. His kind did not handle prolonged celibacy well.

That was the only excuse he could offer. It shamed him, but his passing interest had transformed from curiosity, to want, to need. It was dangerous to keep the charade going. It had to stop.

"Do you want to come in for tea?" he asked politely.

"Do you really need to keep asking?" Ryoma retorted with a dry smirk, undoing his cloak and casting it aside with a familiarity that would be considered rude in most households.

It was later than usual, so the cottage was quite dark – the days were getting shorter with the promise of winter. Tezuka spent a moment lighting the candles. "Are you certain you should be heading back so late? The path can be dangerous in the dark."

"It's a full moon tomorrow night. Hardly dark."

"Won't your hosts worry for you?"

Ryoma expression turned briefly moody. "Che." He didn't respond otherwise. Tezuka took it to mean it wouldn't be a problem. It was easy to forget that Ryoma, with his young face and comparatively small body, was actually a Hunter likely used to managing on his own. His hosts would probably even prefer the man to be in peril, because that would naturally mean progress with the hunt. And for that matter, he recalled, the youth had already stated that he'd likely be roaming the mountain around the night of the full moon, seeing as that was when 'pagan activity' was most likely to occur. Tezuka was glad that he didn't belong to a traditional brotherhood. Ryoma would be suspicious if he were absent from his house on the night of the full moon.

"I'll prepare the tea. Excuse me for a moment."

Tezuka headed into the kitchen, lighting a few more candles on the way. He quietly brewed the tea, hands moving through the familiar motions automatically, mind firmly on the individual in the next room.

As his eyes drifted around the dim kitchen, the shine of a cauldron caught his eyes. It was the strange potion, forgotten after Inui's visit several days prior. He quietly contemplated it out of the corner of his eyes. Normally, he would have thrown it out – Inui would have in his place, so there was no need to clutter up his cramped kitchen with it. Yet it sat, forgotten and undisturbed, for the past few days.

One night, the potions-maker had said.

His hand was moving before he even registered making the movement, and before he could truly think it through, he was adding a single dose to one cup of tea.

When he returned to the table, Ryoma was idly staring into the dancing candle flame. Tezuka frowned, briefly distracted from his own guilty thoughts, glancing about to make sure no windows had been left open. When he looked back, though, the flame glowed steadily. It must have just been his imagination. He set the cups down carefully.

Ryoma picked up the tea with a belated thanks, and made to take a sip. For a brief moment, Tezuka had the urge to knock the cup from his guest's hand, but it was too late. He was committed. What was he doing? It was wrong, and was against everything he stood for, but even as he told himself that he was making a horrible mistake, he justified it to himself. It was dangerous to keep a Hunter around, but because of his irrational desire, he had welcomed the young man back time and time again.

The only solution now was to quench the desire and be rid of it. A few words with enough force in the morning, and the Hunter would forget he existed and never return.

"How much longer do you think you'll be staying in the valley?" he asked mildly, taking a leisurely sip of his own tea.

"Until the witch is caught, or there's proof that she has left," Ryoma remarked disinterestedly, staring into his cup. "Is this a different blend? It tastes unusual."

"It's a new batch of leaves. They taste better with age."

"Hmmm," Ryoma took several quick gulps of the tea, but didn't otherwise comment.

"You don't seem to be in much of a rush to leave. I would think you'd be anxious to move on and get back to the city," Tezuka continued. If this was going to be the last time he saw the Hunter, he might as well satiate as much of his curiosity as possible.

A careless shrug. Ryoma's eyes were half-lidded, and his speech was becoming slightly slurred. "I sort of like it here."

"Oh?"

Hazel eyes were flitting sporadically about the room, but kept returning to him, and the Hunter's face was becoming slightly flushed. "Yeah. Well, you know… it's not crowded. And the fresh air is nice. And you're here."

Even knowing that the potion was at work, the last part still caught Tezuka by surprise. It took him a moment to respond. "I am… glad. You have been an excellent visitor. I shall be sad to see you go."

Ryoma suddenly stood, though swayed slightly in position. "But I don't intend to go any-"

Tezuka quickly moved around the table and steadied the Hunter as he stumbled. They stood there in a loose embrace, before a pair of hazy eyes gazed up into his face.

What little reservations the warlock had remaining vanished when those glistening lips parted and spoke a single, needy word. "Tezuka?"

He pressed their mouths together, plundering the sweetness within. Fingers curled into the back of his shirt, and after a moment, he felt Ryoma respond. Any lingering guilt over his exploitation was quickly obscured as sensation and feeling took over, chasing out all coherent thought.

It was gentle, at first, exploratory. But soon it became urgent and most decidedly careless. Ryoma was impatiently tugging at Tezuka's pants even as he gasped at the ministrations of the mouth on his collarbone. Tezuka paused only long enough to pull their shirts over their heads, whereafter the garments were cast aside thoughtlessly onto the floor. At some point they made it into the bedroom, and he pushed the smaller man onto the bed, leaning forward and capturing his mouth in another kiss, Ryoma's arms curling around his bare neck.

A Hunter and Warlock were doomed from the beginning, after all. This was the safest way.


	3. Chapter 3

******Prince of Warlocks**

**Chapter 3/5**

By Sinnatious

* * *

A bird twittered, and Tezuka opened his eyes.

For a moment, he was wildly disorientated. He recognised the surroundings as home, but his bed felt strange, and he couldn't move his left arm.

He turned his head to the side, and caught sight of a green-black head of hair. Ah, that was right. He couldn't move his arm because Ryoma was using it as a pillow. Even now, he could feel the faint, steady breaths of air tickling his skin.

Their legs were still in an awkward tangle – the bed was meant for one, and was much too small to accommodate them both. Tezuka became immediately conscious of his utter lack of clothing, and the events of the night before rushed back to him.

He didn't move as a myriad of thoughts and feelings whirled in his head. He hadn't originally intended to fall asleep that night – instead planning the spend the hours drinking in the last sights he'd have of the sleeping Hunter, memorizing the curves of his body and the brush of his eyelashes against his cheeks, but the warmth pressed against him under the blankets and the rhythmic, soft breathing had eventually lulled him into unconsciousness.

Resting his free hand against his forehead, Tezuka felt dizzy at the memories of the night before. He hadn't even been aware that the quiet Hunter was even capable of making some of those sounds. Ryoma had practically mewled when he'd first entered him, and then that guttural moan…

He shook his head forcefully, unsuccessfully trying to chase the images crowding in away. It didn't matter. It was the end. It was over now.

The bitterness was almost palpable. What had he been thinking? Quench the desire with a one-night stand? He'd just made his torture worse. At least Ryoma would not suffer for it. It was the only consolation he had.

His movement must have stirred his guest – though the term _guest_ seemed far too impersonal, now – as a moment later, he was confronted with a pair of sleepy hazel eyes. "…Tezuka?"

"Ryoma," he said, though the words came out oddly strangled. He swallowed, and focused. He had to do this right.

"I'm sorry. I think you should leave," he said. The words seemed laden with extra power, and reverberated strangely in the air. "Leave and forget this place ever existed."

"Why should I?" came the sleepy and somewhat petulant response.

That wasn't right… when Tezuka focused his powers into his voice, people obeyed. They were compelled to. That was his specialty as a warlock.

"You should go," he tried again, putting more magic into the words.

This time, Ryoma glared, sitting up in bed. "Don't want to."

What was wrong? Was Inui's potion still working? Why weren't his powers having any effect?

The Hunter crossed his arms and frowned. "You're not regretting it now, are you?"

Yes. "No, it's not that- don't the Hunters work for the church…"

"What they don't know won't hurt them."

"But-"

The youth leaned forward, shifting the blankets as such so that Tezuka could see the curve of a leg disappearing under the sheets. He swallowed harshly. His plan had backfired terribly indeed. "You enjoyed it, right?"

Tezuka's voice was barely a whisper as he replied, "…Yes."

"Then there's no problem. You kissed me first, take responsibility," Ryoma demanded with a satisfied smirk, leaning in and stealing a kiss from a still terribly confused – _how had his plan gone so wrong –_ warlock whose powers had apparently failed him for the first time.

Was it because he didn't truly want Ryoma to disappear? Even now, against his better judgement, he was closing his eyes and leaning into the kiss, arms sliding around the Hunter's waist of their own volition. But then, it was hard enough controlling his powers even when he wasn't trying to use them – it had forced him to always choose his words carefully, lest he accidentally find himself giving orders unintentionally. The words were phrased as demands – his guest should have left without a backwards glance.

Then Ryoma was crawling into his lap, and he couldn't spare the thought to figure it out anymore.

It was a surreal day after that. The sun was high in the sky by the time they'd finished fooling around. Ryoma disappeared down to the Valley eventually, with a promise to return in the evening. Tezuka had been left to muddle through his dilemma and sort through his day's chores. He still had no solution when the Hunter returned in the evening for tea. Fortunately, this time his newfound lover had work to do through the night, so disappeared when the moon rose. The next day, however, Ryoma was back – in the morning, this time - and spent a good part of the day lazing around the house like a cat. They had sex again that night, and Tezuka couldn't figure out how he'd suddenly so badly lost control of the situation.

Ryoma came by every day without fail, now, and though he didn't stay every night, he tended to linger for several hours. Tezuka tried twice more to cut ties, but the Hunter was stubborn and refused to respond. He was soon forced to abandon such attempts, as they were starting to visibly upset and bother the other man. And no wonder. He was still sending terribly mixed signals. Telling the Hunter to leave and forget everything, and then minutes later pressing him up against the wall and kissing the other man senseless. Which, while thoroughly enjoyable, didn't exactly mesh with his common sense telling him to turf the Hunter out before they got too close and things became dangerous. Although how things could become _more_ dangerous when they were already lovers was difficult to imagine.

It was thus a relief when several days later, Fuji came to visit again. Tezuka was in sore need of advice, and while Fuji was generally widely acknowledged as a dangerous source of such things, beggars could not afford to be choosers.

"…Do you think that maybe the potion hasn't worn off?" he concluded after explaining his problem – minus the more intimate details, of course.

The other warlock wore a thoughtful expression. "I doubt it. Inui hasn't made a potion yet that has had effects that last this long."

Tezuka let out a frustrated sigh.

"Saa, it's all very surprising, though. I did not expect to see things progress so far so fast…"

He did not share his comrade's humour over the situation. "Fuji."

"I could meet him. It would only take a look in his eyes – he'd leave then, surely…"

"No. It might get him to leave, but it won't make him forget. And if my voice won't work, we have no proof that yours eyes will. I'd rather not take that risk."

"If you say so. Though it's strange to see you being so possessive. It's almost like you don't really want him to leave," Fuji remarked mildly. "And the fact that you gave him Inui's potion..."

It had been an impulsive moment, but Fuji was right. It wasn't like him to act on his impulses.

"I know. It's been troubling me."

"If you wanted him so badly, why didn't you just ask him?" his friend asked curiously. Tezuka knew the real question was: Why use a potion when his own powers would have sufficed?

How could he explain it to anyone else, though? It would have been safer and made more sense to use his powers in the first place, instead of using Inui's potion… but then, how much more shallow would it have been? People would try to obey even his most ridiculous of commands with enough magic, but they'd do it robotically – and the strong willed ones would sometimes even find small ways to rebel. Inui's love potion instead fooled the recipient into actually falling in love. Both were farces, but only the second one _felt_ real. "I'm not so sure it would have worked," he responded dryly instead. "After all, it's apparently not working now."

"Hmmm. Well, I don't really see the problem, Tezuka. Whatever the cause, he's apparently still quite smitten with you. You should just enjoy yourself."

"I can't."

"Why not? A relationship will do you some good."

"He's not one of us," Tezuka pointed out. "It's dangerous."

"I'm not so sure of that. You already said that he's resisted some of your commands. Even Inui and I are hard pressed to resist when you're trying, and we know when you're doing it. You're one of the most powerful warlocks for leagues around, Tezuka. No human should be able to fight your power."

"He's a hunter!"

"Yes. And that just makes it all the more likely."

That pulled him up short. "What do you mean?"

"Haven't you heard, Tezuka? There have been troubling developments in the west. Churches have been finding young witches and warlocks, and training them to hunt their own kind without their knowledge."

"Witches fighting witches?" Tezuka asked, mildly consternated by the idea.

"It makes sense, doesn't it? If they sent a regular human against you, you could just turn them away with a single word. All I'd have to do is open my eyes and they'd flee. One of our own kind, even if they hadn't been trained to use their abilities, would at least have the resistance to stand their ground."

"He could just be particularly strong-willed," Tezuka argued.

"Maybe. But his hair had a sort of green tinge to it. That's usually a sign of an old, strong magical heritage. His entire family was likely witches and warlocks. Probably killed by hunters, who then took him in and raised him to hunt his own."

"Even so…. Wait, how do you know what colour his hair is?" Tezuka asked, suddenly suspicious.

"Ah ha ha…" Fuji laughed a little sheepishly.

"…You borrowed the crystal ball again, didn't you?"

"Sumire doesn't mind."

"She would if she knew what you were using it for. And she'd likely strike you down with lightning if she heard you call her that again." With a sigh, Tezuka glanced around the apartment and finally located the glass marble Fuji had to have left the previous time in order to facilitate his spying. Thank goodness it hadn't been in the bedroom. He returned the marble to the other warlock with a stern glance. "Don't do that again." The warning hung in the air.

"Using your powers is cheating, Tezuka."

He just gave his friend a pointed look, knowing the pot was calling the kettle black. "He is likely to come any time. You should make yourself scarce. And be careful when leaving. He saw you last time."

"Inui told me. I'll be on my way then. Good luck, Tezuka."

Ryoma came by two hours later. The Hunter returned to the village before midnight, though. The bed really was too small for two, even when they slept in a tangle.

The next two days passed smoothly enough – so much so that Tezuka even briefly entertained the notion that maybe Fuji had been right, and that he needn't send the Hunter away. So long as he was careful to give up any vaguely occult activity, there was no real reason it had to stop. Ryoma was starting to think that perhaps the bird he had seen was the witch leaving the valley for good, and had mentioned more than once of finding a cottage on the outskirts of the village to make his base from, always with a sideways glance at Tezuka.

They'd just finished their by now routine tea-drinking and set their cups to the side while they discussed the possibility in a strictly non-committal way. Tezuka was even alluding to the possibility of Ryoma giving up witch hunting for good, a part of him hoping that even if direct commands didn't work, perhaps suggestion would be enough. It was selfish to use his powers in such a way, but the Hunter had apparently brought out the selfish side in him.

That was when it happened.

It had been an accident, on both sides. Ryoma had made a sweeping gesture to explain the lay of the land with his hand, and the empty teacup that had been on the edge of the table was clipped, wobbled ominously for a moment, and then started to fall to the floor.

Tezuka reacted without thinking. The cup was heavy, and would shatter into dangerous shards if it were to break. So he stretched out his fingers, and the cup altered its trajectory and spun obediently into his grasp instead.

It was only when his guest suddenly stood did it register exactly what he had done.

Tezuka stood as well, mind racing. How could he have been so careless? His power to summon objects towards him – it was a talent he very rarely used, and he'd been especially careful not to use it at all in Ryoma's presence.

The silence was deafening. Ryoma didn't say anything, but his eyes were wide.

"Ryoma, I..." he began, leaking power into his voice without even meaning to.

The youth just shook his head and covered his ears in a panic. "I should have realised. Why didn't I realise? Not a witch. No, not a witch. A _warlock_."

"Ryoma," he tried again, taking a step forward, but halted when a silver dagger flew past his ear, embedding itself in the wall behind him.

"Stay back," the Hunter hissed, backing away and grabbing another knife from his boot. So that was where he'd been keeping his weapons. That explained why the Hunter always insisted on taking off his own shoes in their frenzied disrobing. Tezuka knew he had more, but they were likely to be concealed in the travelling cloak. "You bewitched me. I can't believe I fell for it." Hazel eyes flashed golden.

Tezuka made to speak again, but the Hunter raised his knife once more. Growing worried, the warlock put considerable force into pulling the blade from his grasp, and then had to catch the fist flying towards his face. He was not so quick to avoid the second wild punch, which glanced off his jaw. Three quick steps to the side, and he was at the Hunter's back, right wrist still firmly in his grasp. Ryoma threw his head backwards, striking him on the chin and causing him to drop both the wrist and the knife. His opponent darted for the blade, but dazed as he was, Tezuka's magic was quicker – a flick of his wrist jerked the weapon just out of reach, as though pulled by invisible wires. Scowling, Ryoma spun and dashed towards the dagger embedded in the wall, but the warlock reached out as he made to pass him and snatched his wrist once more, jolting his arm and stopping him in his path.

"Ryoma." The word reverberated with magic.

The Hunter's eyes widened as he realised he couldn't cover his ears and fight at the same time. In a panic, he stomped on Tezuka's foot – the surprise at the action was enough to make the warlock drop his wrist again. Ryoma used the opportunity to dive away and flee out the door, one hand snatching up his cloak as he went, leaving one shell-shocked warlock standing by the table with an aching jaw and a rather sore foot.

So that was it, then. He knew the day would come, but he still hadn't been prepared for it. The ache in his chest was sharper than he'd expected.

Shaking himself out of his stupor, he quickly made his way to the bedroom, withdrawing his bags and travelling cloak. He stopped by the garden to harvest as many of the herbs as he could – they would be payment for board at Inui's house in the city while he found himself a new home.

Tezuka packed swiftly. There was no telling when the mob would come. A mob of ordinary people he could turn away, but if Ryoma called for fellow hunters he could find himself in trouble. He probably only had a few hours at the most.

Twilight was beginning to set in when he finished his hasty evacuation. He was forced to leave quite a few books behind, but he had managed to pack all the rarest ones. Once properly attired, he set out, casting one last, wistful glance at the mountain cottage he had called home for several years now. It would most likely be burned to the ground by the morning.

Pulling the hood on his cloak up, he walked away, rubbing his sore jaw as he did so. Strangely, the thing he felt worst about was not his bruises or imminent homelessness - it was the memory of that golden flash of betrayal in those beautiful hazel eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Prince of Warlocks**

**Chapter 4/5**

By Sinnatious

* * *

It took some time for Tezuka to settle himself again. Winter had fallen by the time he had established himself in a new home. In the end, he wound up selecting another hilltop cottage just beyond the farms of the town in which Inui and Fuji had settled themselves, which naturally meant more frequent visits from the both of them. The cottage was a bit larger – more a proper house this time - and in rather better condition that the one he had hailed from, yet still in an isolated place far from the more travelled roads; which was, in his mind, the most important thing.

Going silently through the motions of life as he had before, though, had lost quite a bit of its sparkle. During the days, he immersed himself in books, and tried to coax life into the few crops and herbs that would grow through the winter. Many of his nights, however, were whiled away staring listlessly into the candlelight, because all sleep brought was memories of Ryoma. It was ridiculous. They'd known each other for a matter of weeks, really – hardly enough time to collect that many memories. And yet every encounter, every touch, every breath, and most importantly, that flash of hatred and betrayal in those eyes would revisit him whenever he closed his eyes.

Fortunately, Fuji and Inui kept him busy enough that he soon felt that maybe eventually he'd be able to properly forget the whole sordid affair. Fuji introduced him to the layout of the town, pointing out areas to avoid – being a larger city, there was a base of Hunters that all the witches and warlocks in the area knew to steer clear of – and which areas others of their kind would occasionally congregate. He assisted Inui with some of his potions projects, and helped with his apprentice's training. He even visited Kawamura a few times, who had set up a rather successful restaurant near the bazaar. During such visits he grew occasionally jealous of his companions' ease in integrating with the populace – although how Fuji managed to blend in with those closed eyes and terribly obvious robes remained a mystery – but he ultimately preferred his own company anyway and was fine with retiring to his new secluded cottage when the first snow arrived.

His heartache didn't entirely disappear, but reason and logic were enough to keep the worst of the sting at bay. Time would surely heal the rest.

Then one night in the thick of winter, he heard tapping at the door.

The knock was so feeble, at first he thought it was just his imagination, or the wind playing tricks on his ears. As it persisted, however, in regular, staccato bursts, he roused himself from his position in front of the fire and went to investigate.

Pulling open the heavy door, he suddenly found himself with an armful of snow. There had been flurries all day. "What-? Ryoma?"

The familiar figure stumbled against him. He hurriedly shut the door to keep the cold out, and brushed several clumps of ice from the green-black hair and brown cloak. What was Ryoma doing out in this weather, and without a proper winter cloak? He was still dressed in standard travelling garb, which was hardly fit for trekking through the snow!

Abruptly, he remembered exactly who it was he was dealing with. Ryoma. A Hunter. One who had more than just one reason to kill him. He made to back off, to put a safe distance between them, but before he'd taken more than a step away, a hand grasped at his shirt, keeping him close.

Brown eyes darted about, searching for a dagger or stake or some other dangerous implement that might be headed for his heart or eyes or throat, but there didn't seem to be any. And the figure leaning heavily against his chest was shaking rather badly. "…You are Ryoma, correct?"

"You left." It was definitely Ryoma, all right. Though the voice was weak, barely above a whisper, and lacking the usual arrogant tone, he'd recognise it anywhere.

"How did you find me?!" the warlock demanded. He'd moved far, and left no trail. Knowing that a Hunter might be on his tail was motivation enough to be more careful than usual. He hadn't stopped for more than a couple of hours at a time until he'd reached Inui's home.

"Heh… I'm the best… you still have lots more to work on. Followed. Been looking for weeks."

"To kill me?" Tezuka asked, voice grave and resonating with warning. The shaking figure in his arms flinched, but didn't release his hold.

The silence stretched on for a long moment. Doubt began to grow in the warlock's mind. Was Ryoma actually not here to kill him? Why hadn't he brought reinforcements?

"I thought you would have reported me to the Hunters," he observed quietly.

"Tried. Couldn't. The words wouldn't come out," came the muffled reply.

"Ryoma. Look at me."

At last, the head of green-black hair was raised, and a pair of hazel eyes rose to meet his gaze.

Tezuka's breath almost left him. He hadn't seen Ryoma outside of his memories in almost two months. The sight of his face was like cool water on a parched throat.

How had he managed to walk away from those eyes?

Even as he tried to fight back the wave of emotions with reason and logic, though, he found himself clutching the Hunter tighter to his chest, leaning down, and capturing his lips in a bruising kiss.

Ryoma gasped, eyes sliding closed and neck arching back to accommodate him. His lips were cold, but they quickly warmed, and the hand clenched in his shirt tightened, and… suddenly the Hunter was struggling in his grasp, and broke away, eyes wide as he wiped his mouth. "No!"

"Ryoma?"

The Hunter just shook his head fiercely. "No. No. You bewitched me! You're – you're a warlock!"

"Yes," Tezuka replied evenly, keeping a wary eye out for any weapons headed his way.

A fist pounded itself on his chest, though there was no real strength in the gesture. "Why can't I kill you? Why did I miss? I shouldn't have missed! I _never_ miss."

The first dagger thrown, Tezuka recalled. It had skimmed dangerously close past his ear. A few inches to the side, and it would have embedded itself in his eye. A popular way for Hunters to kill witches. They usually went for either the heart or the throat or the eyes. Anywhere else was too slow. And Ryoma had remarkable aim. He'd seen that uncanny precision himself, and Tezuka had been standing just beyond point-blank range, unprepared for the initial assault.

Yet Ryoma had missed.

"What did you do to me?" Ryoma pleaded, grasping at the warlock's sleeves. "What spell did you cast on me? Make it go away!"

"I didn't… I didn't cast any spell," he replied dully, then paused. Wait… that wasn't quite true.

Inui's potion.

The irrational hope that had briefly flared in his chest when that pale hand had clutched his shirt abruptly turned to ice. Guilt began to pool in his stomach again.

It had been foolish and naïve to hope for even an instant that perhaps the Hunter had at some point developed feelings strong enough to override the fact that they were natural enemies. He'd taken Ryoma's rather matter-of-fact approach to the odd relationship they'd developed after that night as the result of his blunt and uncaring attitude, but wasn't it just as likely that the effect of the potion had lingered, even after all this time? Even if it wasn't the potion, Tezuka couldn't rule out the possibility that maybe he _had_ bewitched Ryoma with his voice. Though the Hunter had displayed an impressive amount of resistance to it, they had talked an awful lot – at least by Tezuka's standards. Maybe he truly did bewitch the other man in some way.

Regardless of any possible bewitching, it was still his responsibility. First things first… the Hunter looked like he was about to keel over on the spot, and he hadn't forgotten how cold those lips had been on contact, nor how the Hunter had been shivering in his grasp after stumbling in from the snow. How far had Ryoma walked? As a warlock, Tezuka possessed many means of speeding his journey, and he had set his new home up so very far away from his old one…

"Let's get you warmed up by the fire," he eventually suggested, grasping at an elbow and guiding Ryoma by the small of his back to where the merry little blaze was still crackling. Slightly dazed, the Hunter didn't protest – he seemed to have used up all of his energy on his last outburst.

He sat the suddenly docile traveller down in front of the fireplace, hurriedly fetching a blanket and draping it over narrow shoulders, then collecting some of the still-warm soup he had for dinner from the kitchen, and handing the bowl over. The Hunter took it with a blank gaze, eyes drooping, and gave it only one brief distrustful glance before spooning it mechanically into his mouth. Exhaustion was obviously setting in. Sheer willpower must have been all that kept the man awake while tracking him through the snow. He'd fall asleep soon, almost certainly.

Tezuka didn't have to wait long. Mere minutes after the soup had been finished, he carefully extricated the empty bowl and spoon from limp hands and returned them to the kitchen. Removing Ryoma's boots – being mindful of the blades hidden within - he then carried the sleeping Hunter into the bedroom, carefully tucking him under the blankets. It was a wry thought, but he had the notion to chastise the Hunter for being careless in the morning – falling asleep in front of your enemy like that. Had he been thinking like any normal warlock, he would have taken the opportunity to kill the other man first.

Alas, two months had done little to dull his fondness after all.

That morning, he summoned Fuji and Inui. They both had the gall to look oddly pleased when he explained the situation to them.

"So what do you think?" he asked.

"I am curious as to how exactly he tracked you here," Inui murmured, adjusting his glasses.

Fuji was resting his chin on his hand, looking bemused. "And I'm impressed that he felt strongly enough to go that far. He must have been lovesick indeed."

Tezuka ignored him. "Fuji didn't think it could hold so long, but could your potion have reacted strangely, Inui? To produce such a strong and lasting effect? He was rather distraught upon arrival."

"It must hurt so much to not understand it," Fuji murmured.

Inui, for his part, spared him cryptic comments and simply replied, "I would need to at least see him to ascertain if that is the case. There are certain physical symptoms which should enlighten us as to…"

"Oh, looks like this is your chance," Fuji interrupted. Sure enough, a moment later the Hunter appeared in the doorway. His hair was still slightly mussed from sleeping and his clothes were crumpled and crooked, but he was awake and very much alert. Tezuka was relieved to see some colour in his cheeks now. His guest had been deathly pale when he'd stumbled in the night before, and the warlock had found himself repeatedly checking for any signs of a coming fever through the night. Though in retrospect, he admitted uncomfortably to himself, that might have just been an excuse to touch the Hunter's face and assure him that he was really there and not just a figment of a lonely imagination.

"Good morning," he greeted politely, in a voice far calmer than what he felt. "Did you sleep well?"

Ryoma didn't respond, instead eyeing the two newcomers with a wary gaze, sidling slowly into the room. Fuji's smile widened and Inui was making no efforts to hide the fact that he was staring – no doubt divining all sorts of information from details as inane as the length of his fingernails. "Who are these people? More warlocks?"

"Oh, what gave it away?" Fuji asked cheerfully.

The Hunter just snorted. When no one else said anything, he finally relented. "Those black robes are practically an advertisement. And as for that one," he continued, jerking a thumb at Inui, "He positively reeks of herbs. And since he's obviously not a cook or a gardener..."

"Impressive," Inui murmured. "He's already a more accurate fortune-teller than Mizuki." Fuji perked up at that.

Fortunately, Ryoma provided a quick and safe change of subject. "Where are my boots?"

"By the door. They shall stay there unless you leave the house," Tezuka informed him.

Ryoma folded his arms, looking away and appearing distinctly uncomfortable. "I wasn't going to kill you."

"But you were just now considering killing my friends, weren't you?"

The silence that greeted that statement was all the answer they needed.

"Saa, don't worry Tezuka, Inui and I are not so easy to kill."

"Don't underestimate him," Tezuka warned. Ryoma fidgeted a little at that. The warlock adjusted his glasses, and indicated the seat next to him at the table. "Please, take a seat. You must be hungry. I shall fetch breakfast." As an afterthought, he added, "No killing anyone." He doubted his request would hold much weight, even with his voice suffused with magic, but that scowl confirmed that he'd comply anyway.

The Hunter gingerly sat down, still glaring distrustfully at his friends. Tezuka headed into the kitchen, but a kept a close ear on what was happening in the other room.

"So, tell me, how did you and Tezuka meet?"

His friends were apparently not even remotely bothered by the fact that they were talking to a _Hunter_ of all people as though he were some teenage girl dating their son. Tezuka couldn't hear the other half of the conversation – Ryoma's normal conversation volume was scarcely above that of a mumble – but still found himself wincing at some of the questions his friends asked. He hurried with breakfast, but his guest was still sporting a fierce blush when he returned to the table. The Hunter glared accusingly at him, no doubt blaming the warlock for leaving him alone at the mercy of his two strange colleagues.

The warlock silently proffered a bowl of warm oatmeal, Ryoma accepting it without even a word of thanks. He turned to his friends next. "What is your opinion?"

"He's certainly bewitched, I think, but not in the way either of you think," Fuji remarked mildly.

"Fuji. Be serious."

"I was being serious."

"Inui?" Tezuka deferred instead.

"He appears to be functioning normally and answered all of our questions in an appropriate manner. There don't appear to be any unnatural influences on his behaviour, though honestly, Tezuka, you would be the best judge of that."

"And the potion?" he pressed.

"Ah yes. The potion has certainly worn off. The effects of that are easily measured by the dilation of the pupils in the eye."

"Potion?" Ryoma asked suspiciously.

"Yes. It's a sort of...," here Inui coughed, and Tezuka barely restrained the urge to interrupt his friend. But he could not continue to hide what he had done, not anymore. To do so would only compound his transgression. He had lied to Ryoma enough. Sensing the unspoken permission, the potions-maker continued, "...well, it's love potion, basically. Short-term. Tezuka apparently put a single dose in your tea, but it would have left your system after a couple of hours."

The Hunter's eyes flashed golden, and he was standing again, breakfast forgotten. "You DID bewitch me, I knew-"

"Calm down there, kitten," Fuji interrupted, opening his eyes and pinning the Hunter with a serene gaze that didn't seem to even perturb the other man. He was either complete immune, or had to have nerves of steel. "The effects were only temporary. You can blame Tezuka for taking the initiative, but after that..."

"I'm sorry," Tezuka interjected quietly. "It was a weakness on my part. I could not push you away."

It was clear that Ryoma was becoming agitated and did not know what to make of the situation anymore. "But you-"

"It was you who continued to throw yourself at him after that," Fuji intoned knowingly.

"But I-"

"Excuse me, though this might be sudden, would you mind if I inquire as to what your last name is?" Inui interrupted.

The young Hunter tensed unexpectedly at the left-fielded question. There was a long pause, before he muttered, "I'm not supposed to tell people my last name."

"I would think that you and Tezuka are close enough that by now, surely, it would be okay," Fuji cut in smoothly.

Blazing golden eyes rose to meet his. For a second, he thought the Hunter was going to refuse, but then… "Echizen. It's Echizen Ryoma."

Silence reigned at the table.

Ryoma shifted uneasily, clearly not expecting that response. "What?"

Inui shook himself. "Well, in light of that... I would think, Tezuka, that there is absolutely no chance of either spell or potion lingering."

Fuji demurely clapped his hands. "Wonderful! Isn't that good news, Tezuka, Ryoma? Everybody's feelings are very much their own."

Tezuka did feel his spirits lift slightly, and his guilt ease some. If there had been no bewitchment beyond Inui's potion, then that truly meant...

Ryoma, on the other hand, had gone pale, and was shaking his head in denial. "No…"

"Ryoma?" he ventured uncertainly.

"No… it's not true… They're not real. I could NEVER - I could NEVER... with a warlock!" The Hunter suddenly whirled and ran for the door, tugging on his boots and throwing his cloak over his shoulders before plunging back out into the wintry landscape.

"Ryoma!"

Fuji halted his chase with a hand on his arm. "Go after him right now and he just might put a knife through you anyway. We've given him a lot to think about. Give him a few minutes to collect himself at least."

Acknowledging the logic of that sentiment, Tezuka slumped bonelessly back into his chair by the table. It wasn't even midday and he was exhausted. His emotions had been caught in whirlwind all morning, and still hadn't settled down. He'd barely got the Hunter back – why did he have to run off again so soon?

Fuji finally broke the silence. "You never told me that his eyes turn golden when he's upset."

"To be honest, I'd thought I'd just imagined it last time."

"Well, it's all the proof we need. Couple that with the fact that his family name is Echizen…"

"I know." The name Echizen was practically synonymous with magic. The most recent one in memory had been Nanjiroh Echizen - an infamous warlock capable of feats of magic that most of their kind could only dream of. The old lady often spoke of his talents and powers fondly. But he'd disappeared about fifteen years ago – some assumed that Hunters had finally felled him, others thought that he'd gone across the seas – and only his legend had lived on. Until now, anyway.

"Hm. The situation in this case is dire, Tezuka," Inui observed. "You have to get him out of the Hunters. They'll put him down if his powers start to manifest. And there is a very high probability that they will. He's too powerful to remain untrained, especially if he takes after his father. He'll eventually teach himself, just like you did."

Tezuka felt his heart constrict in his chest. "You mean..."

"You'll have to talk with him when he comes back," Fuji counselled. "In which case, such a delicate conversation will probably go much easier without Inui or I. Shall we be off?"

The potions-maker nodded, and his friends left the house. For the first time, the stillness and silence was mildly overwhelming. It was too quiet. Tezuka shuffled about the house restlessly, routinely checking the windows for any sign of Ryoma's return. After all, he'd come back once, hadn't he? He was sure to eventually come again – to try and kill him, if nothing else.

Except that the Hunter didn't return.

As the hours stretched on, and daylight gave way to darkness once more, he had to admit maybe the other man really wouldn't. Why would he? Tezuka had lied to him, after all. He'd manipulated him for his own desires, and let a false relationship blossom that he'd always known would be doomed to failure. And now that Ryoma knew too, he had no reason to come back, save to kill him, and if he feared bewitchment, would he even bother turning up in person to do it himself when he could just as easily send another in his place? He'd likely never see the other man again.

The thought hurt, but he'd contended with it once before. He could get over his heartache again.

When the sun rose the next morning and he'd slept less than three hours, he was a little less convinced.

The next couple of days passed in something of a daze for Tezuka, which was supremely depressing as it felt like he'd barely just pulled himself out of such a state before the Hunter had unexpectedly turned up on his doorstep again. His work was riddled with mistakes, he broke two plates, and his heart thudded in his chest every time there was a sound at the door. The disappointment when it turned out to be Fuji or Inui every time almost made him physically ill. His friends grew worried – whether for him or Ryoma he could not tell – but there was little he could do about the situation. He didn't know where the Hunter might go, or where he could seek him out. There were a few times where he'd almost asked Inui to perform a divination in desperation - yet he stopped himself. After all, he didn't have the right. Not after everything he'd done. It was a small miracle Ryoma hadn't reported him to the Hunters the first time, much less the second – as it was he spent several hours of each day considering moving again. After the fourth day had passed uninterrupted by anyone save his friends, though, Tezuka conceded that it appeared that Ryoma at least did not want him dead.

The more cynical part of him wondered if living with his guilt and heartache was the greater punishment.

Inui came around in the morning again that day – it had been Fuji who dropped by last time. "Tezuka. You look tired. Have you been sleeping?"

"A full eight hours last night," he reported truthfully. He still felt tired, though – no doubt because of the sleeplessness the nights previous. The emotional turmoil of the week so far had left him drained. Somehow it was crueller to have been granted that hope just after he had accepted there was none, only to have it snatched away from him again almost immediately. "You're here early today."

"There was a fire in town yesterday," Inui reported. "The bazaar still reeks of smoke. So I figured I might as well come here for some fresh air instead."

Tezuka paused, concerned. "Was it Kawamura?"

"Of course not. Do you think anyone's foolish enough to leave a staff lying around for Taka to pick up?"

"Then…"

"Likely just ruffians. No witch or warlock is stupid or rash enough to set fire to a whole street like that. In any case, it was snowing, so the damage will only be superficial. Or so I heard. Anyhow, I was wondering if you'd finished the latest transcripts?"

"Yes. Just a moment." He retrieved a rather messy bundle of papers, and handed them over to the potions-maker with a sigh. It had taken him longer than usual, but at least this one was free of mistakes.

Inui, for his part, just adjusted his glasses and accepted the disorganized mess quietly. "I take it you still haven't heard from him, then?"

The warlock shook his head wordlessly.

"Right. Well, we can only be patient. Unless you have something I could use to perform a divination-"

"It is probably best this way," Tezuka interrupted quietly.

"….If you say so. I'll not keep you, then."

It seemed odd that his colleague would leave again so soon after arriving, but then, he admitted that he was not quite his usual self, which was probably unnerving the other warlock.

Not long after the potions-maker had left, he fetched his cloak and left the house for the first time that week.

It was just an idle thought. Normally disasters really were just unfortunate coincidences, rather works of evil magic as people seemed to want to believe. Witches and warlocks largely preferred not to draw attention to themselves after all, and there were only a scant few who grew both powerful enough and delusional enough to actually start causing intentional harm.

All Tezuka could see in his mind's eye, however, was a small candle flame flickering in a room with no breeze.

What if Ryoma hadn't returned not because he didn't want to, but instead because he _couldn't_?


	5. Chapter 5

**Prince of Warlocks**

**Chapter 5/5**

By Sinnatious

* * *

Tezuka dared to venture into this new, larger town even more rarely than the village he had lived near previously. He'd been going every couple of weeks to stock up on supplies until he could get a good crop rotation going again, and once or twice to visit Kawamura's restaurant, but otherwise there was little call for it – his friends usually came to him, and Inui frequently brought him things from the bazaar as well, further reducing his need to go shopping. Today, he told himself that he was out of parchment and ink, and that was the only reason he was going. If perchance his quest for some nice new books and ink led him deep into Hunter territory that few witches and warlocks ever risked wandering near... well, that was just coincidence.

He dallied by the street stalls, keen ears used to the silence that generally accompanied a hermit's lifestyle easily picking out conversations from amongst the bustling crowd. There was one group of women that seemed especially abuzz.

"...A young man, had been hiding among them for years - no one had suspected..."

"My husband had been with their troupe for several months, he always said that the boy was antisocial."

"Cocky and arrogant, was what I heard."

"I guess now we know why. The gall, to hide among them! Probably helping his own kind out behind their backs, and laughing all the while!"

"After they spent all those years bringing him up, too."

"Darling, isn't your boyfriend at the station as well? Is it safe? I heard he escaped a couple of times."

"He did say there had been trouble – I was sick with worry when he came home with a horrible cut on his arm in the early hours! They're going to hurry and take care of things at sunup tomorrow morning. In the town square - by hanging, and then burning. It's the only way to be sure. They have to scatter the ashes."

"Oh, we must go. I don't think I'll feel safe again until I see it happen with my own eyes."

"I know. I was so scared when suddenly there were flames all along the street just two blocks down from my house! We were lucky it was snowing, so they couldn't spread. The whole place still smells of smoke."

"It was horrid. Are they absolutely sure he won't escape?"

"Of course they are. They have a dungeon and guards designed to handle such things. It's their job. That's why all the previous escapes failed, isn't it?"

Tezuka had heard enough. He walked away, slipping through the throngs of people quietly.

Could it just be a coincidence?

Unlikely. How many Hunters would fit that description? His suspicions were true after all.

Ryoma was to be executed at dawn.

By hanging and fire, they'd said. It was foolish of them to think that they could kill a warlock so easily. But then, Ryoma didn't know how to control his powers. And the Hunters were the ones doing it. If the fire failed, they'd follow it with steel, and then the young man would be doomed.

As a burning emotion started to spread through him, Tezuka realised that Fuji was right. He was possessive after all.

It didn't take long to reach the local headquarters where the Hunters gathered. Every witch and warlock in the area knew where it was, and knew to give it a wide berth – the Hunters there were a paranoid bunch, and likely to haul up and question people with even slightly suspicious characteristics. But unlike Fuji, Tezuka wore non-descript clothes, and could easily be confused for just a common scholar with his plain black cloak and glasses. So long as he kept his eyes on the ground and was careful to blend in, not even the most observant of hunters would notice him. He passed a group of four, standing and talking in the street – they were easily identifiable by the silver badges they wore, provided by the Church as proof of their occupation. Ryoma had kept his in his pocket, he vaguely recalled, presumably not to alert his prey that they were being hunted, or more likely due to a dislike of uniforms. Another man, with a sword slung over his shoulder and a badge hanging off his belt, jostled past him. For a second, Tezuka held his breath, preparing himself for action – would the stranger notice the scent of the unusual herbs he grew for Inui on his clothes? – but his concern was unfounded, as the man continued walking without a backward glance. Of course. Paranoid though some Hunters might be, nothing so simple as a scent would give him away. Coolly, he continued on, making a beeline for the headquarters. He passed another five idle Hunters on his way, but they were abruptly forgotten when he reached the building at last. Staring at the large, grey building, a sort of cold fire consumed him, driving out the last vestiges of caution.

Tezuka strode straight through the front door unchallenged, emitting an aura of almost visible power.

There was a group of three middle-aged men gathered around a table in the foyer, drinking and playing cards by the looks of things. They threw him a distracted glance, absorbed in their activity, until one of them paused and looked over at him again with his eyes squinted. "Hey, wait, you've got to show your-"

"Go to sleep."

They slumped down on the table, drinks spilling from their hands to drench the floor with alcohol. Tezuka swept past them and moved deeper into the building, heading for the basement. Most of the rooms were empty – he only came across two more Hunters, both of which were convinced to ignore everything that was happening around them with just a few words. Finally, he spied a trapdoor. It revealed a stone staircase leading deeper into the earth.

The warlock descended the staircase confidently, uncontested until he reached the bottom.

"Halt! Who goes there?" A single guard? He looked younger than the others so far, and had a nervous hand on the scabbard of a sword.

"Stand aside," Tezuka ordered, voice echoing ominously against the stone walls. The Hunter didn't even have a hope of resisting. Wordlessly, he moved out of the way. As an afterthought, Tezuka added, "Give me your keys. Then go home and forget you ever saw me here."

"Yes sir!" The guard almost robotically handed over his ring of keys, and then hurried back upstairs. Tezuka waited until he was gone before heading to the only locked door. It was made of heavy wood, inset with iron, and the key had trouble turning in the rusted lock.

The cell was dark – the only light came from that which spilled from the doorway. Regardless, the warlock swept his eyes over the cell and moved forward, though more tentatively now.

"Ryoma?"

A bundle of rags in the corner shifted, and chains clinked together. A dirty mop of green-black hair emerged, and he was regarded with a pair of sallow, sunken hazel eyes. "...Tezuka?" The word was spoken in a raw whisper.

He rushed over to the youth's side, helping him sit up. He flinched at the sight of the bruising on the arms and legs, and the shallow cut just above his right eye - Ryoma had obviously put up quite a fight. His clothes were torn, his wrists and ankles were clasped in thick, heavy iron manacles, and around his neck there was, of all things, a collar with a bell on it.

"Are you okay?"

"I've been better." Tezuka clutched the Hunter to his chest tightly, causing the chains to rattle. "…They say I'm a warlock."

"I know."

"…Didn't think I'd ever see you again. Why did you come?"

"I had to."

"It's dangerous for you here. They'll kill you in a heartbeat. Just because I couldn't, doesn't mean-"

"I was willing to take that risk."

Ryoma didn't seem to know what to make of that. He just allowed his head to drop to his chest again, eyes sliding closed.

"What's with the collar?" Tezuka asked quietly.

"…I turned into a cat."

"A cat?" Shape shifting was a common enough skill among their kind, but it was a surprise that Ryoma had figured out how to do so. Tezuka recalled Fuji's impromptu nickname for the Hunter, and wonder if he had already sensed the young man's talent.

"And there was some sort of whirlwind following me around town. And I think I might have caused a few fires, too. I'm not sure. It could have been coincidence." His head rolled listlessly to the side. "Locked me up in here. Called me a warlock. They didn't bind my hands last time, and suddenly, I was a cat. Got away. Then some irritating little girl picked me up and put a collar on me."

"How did you get caught again?" he asked curiously, even as he ran cautious fingers over the man's scalp, checking for wounds that might have been hidden by his hair.

A weak chuckle. "Took me straight to her home into the arms of her Hunter father. He knew something was odd straight away. Then they threw me back in here, and put these on. The metal seems to stop it."

At that, Tezuka traced a careful hand over the manacles. Ah. There was a thread of Orichalcum in the iron. It wouldn't stop a determined witch, but it was more than enough to stymie a novice.

"Did you do this to me? Was it because I... with you..." Ryoma whispered.

He ran a comforting hand over the dirty green hair. "I am afraid that magic isn't catching. But this whole affair may have had some hand in waking up what was already there." Generally witches and warlocks discovered their powers in times of strife or great emotional upset. The Hunter's general prowess at his job and lazy and uncaring attitude had probably shielded him from both circumstances until now.

"You mean... I always..."

"It may interest you to know that the name Echizen used to belong to quite a powerful warlock. He disappeared some fifteen years ago, and we think he was likely killed by a group of Hunters. When did the Hunters take you in and start training you, Ryoma?"

Wide, haunted hazel eyes met his. It seemed that he'd convinced the other man at last.

"I'm really…"

"Yes."

"I always have been…"

"Yes."

"Then all those witches and warlocks I killed…"

"It is regrettable, but you were used. Witches and warlocks have some measure of resistance against the powers of others of their kind, and it made you an effective Hunter. Rather than feel guilty over the past, you will be better off focusing on what you will do with the future now that you know the truth."

The other man barked out a harsh laugh. "The future? Haven't you heard? They're going to kill me at dawn."

"I will not allow that to happen."

"What are you going to do about it?"

"I'll get you out of here," he promised.

He turned his attention to the manacles. It took longer than he would have liked, but after concentrating his power, his left arm began to glow with an unearthly aura. Tezuka grasped bindings around Ryoma's wrists with his left hand, and snapped them off cleanly.

The younger man was staring with wide-eyed disbelief at him, even as he turned his attention to the cuffs encasing the ankles. A moment later, the budding warlock was freed.

"What was that?"

"It is one of my talents. I focus all of my magic and power into my left arm, making it many times stronger. It took quite a long time to master."

"Could I learn to do that?"

"If you work hard enough." Ryoma had a glint in his eyes as he helped him to his feet, but that shine abruptly vanished when he stumbled, letting out a hiss between his teeth.

Tezuka located the source of the problem immediately: a sprained ankle. The restraints had hidden that particular injury. Ryoma grunted in surprise as he swept a hand under his knees and picked the slight man up. He was lighter than he expected – back in the cottage near that desolate little valley he'd seen the layers of fine wiry muscle the younger man sported, and he'd certainly felt heavy those times he'd used the warlock as a living pillow in that cramped bed. Tezuka found himself wondering whether it was the long journey searching for him that had robbed Ryoma of his weight, or if it was just the effects of his magic still lingering on his left arm causing the illusion.

"I can walk myself," came a furious hiss.

"Perhaps, but this will be faster. Bear with it," was the mild reply. The pride at work he would normally indulge – after all, Ryoma had been robbed of so much of his pride that week already – but his impulsiveness had only carried him this far, and now Tezuka had to turn his attention to what to do next. His mind raced furiously, even as he carried his charge up the stone staircase. Everyone in the building was still sleeping, thankfully.

It was simple enough to steal Ryoma from the Hunters – but could they outrun them? There were bound to be others in town, all of whom would be on the lookout for them almost immediately, and the ones he had passed on the streets before he had entered the building would not let him pass unopposed again with their prisoner in his arms. He was already tired, having expended the most energy he had for a long while, and his vision kept blurring in and out of focus. If a mob of Hunters came after him now, did he still have the strength to keep them at bay? He cursed his rashness. Striding into the lion's den without a plan… If they got out of this alive, Fuji would never let him live it down.

There was nothing else to do. He'd have to take the chance, and hope that his voice alone would be enough to keep them at bay long enough to make their escape. So long as they avoided drawing a crowd, they could probably make it.

Taking a deep breath, he clutched Ryoma tighter to his chest, and stepped out of the building.

The scene that greeted him could be best described as pure chaos.

The numerous Hunters he had passed quietly by on his way in were now quite busy. Townspeople of all ages were milling about in the streets – some in panic, others in confusion. There were fires everywhere.

Cautiously, he weaved through the panicking throng. He briefly set his charge down, picking up a discarded cloak from the ground and wrapping it around shivering shoulders. It was still winter, after all, and Ryoma's torn clothes were damp and he was barefoot. He took care to ensure that the hood was brought securely around the distinctive green-black hair, and picked up the quiet Hunter – no, a warlock now, he corrected himself – again, trying to find a way to safely escape the disorder without running into any of the Hunters darting through the streets.

Suddenly, a familiar figure appeared by his side. He tensed automatically before recognising them. "Fuji."

"Tezuka. My, the kitten isn't looking very well, is he?"

"Did you do this?" He nodded towards the general chaos surrounding the burning buildings, all curiously confined to dwellings where Hunters normally resided.

"What do you mean? Someone just carelessly left a staff in the street that Taka happened to pick up."

Tezuka's lips quirked. Kawamura was normally meek and perfectly happy running his restaurant, but the instant someone gave him a staff or a wand… it was the result of an esoteric family curse, apparently. Fuji was good at countering curses, but for some reason didn't appear to want to touch that one. For once, he found himself glad. It was a rather useful curse in instances such as these. Even so… "You should not endanger yourself so recklessly on my behalf."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I haven't done a thing. All I've done all day is walk around town."

"There's a bear in the square! A wild bear!" A woman shrieked as she ran past.

"Fuji."

"Yes, Tezuka?" the warlock asked innocently.

"…Thank you."

His friend just gave him a serene smile. "Go take care of him, Tezuka. I'll look after things here."

"Don't be careless."

The Hunters had all gone running for the town square, so Tezuka hurried in the opposite direction. They were wasting their time – he knew for a fact that the bear was no longer there, but planned to take the utmost advantage of that distraction.

"You have weird friends," Ryoma mumbled in his arms.

It was a tense several minutes as Tezuka weaved his way through the town with his prize, pausing at crossroads to wait while Hunters passed, Ryoma occasionally tugging on his collar in warning and pointing out safe places to hide - the training his very captors had provided him with helping to ease their passage. Neither of them even started to relax until they'd reached the very outskirts, and even then, Tezuka's nerves remained on alert until his house was in sight. He cast a glance down at the increasingly heavy bundle on his arms. Ryoma had fallen asleep once they were out of the immediate danger zone; his head nestled against his shoulder.

It was with a sigh of relief when he finally deposited his sleeping quarry in his bed again, at which point he slumped against it, energy thoroughly spent. It was too early for rest, though. There was too much to do. There were injuries to treat. Tracks to cover. Was his house still safe? Most of the Hunters had either missed a good look at his face or had been ordered to forget, but if some of them had magic in their blood like Ryoma did, perhaps his commands wouldn't hold? Would they be able to track them down? Ryoma chased him across two mountain ranges – surely tracing them from the centre of town would be enormously easier.

He ran his fingers through the tangled green-black hair, freeing the knots – more to keep his own nerves steady than anything else. Even knowing their faces, though, it wasn't like anyone would find them so soon. And even if they did, it didn't matter. He would protect that which was his.

It was with a wry smile that he went to fetch some bandages to wrap the ankle. That was being optimistic, of course, but at least Ryoma was back. He was safe. He was alive. That was all that really counted.

Tezuka wondered when exactly curiosity had turned to desire, had turned to need, had turned to love.

After wrapping the ankle and peeling off wet clothes, replacing them with a set of his own – much too large, but they'd do the job – Tezuka tucked his guest into his bed and set up a silent vigil. Inevitably, though, his own exhaustion started to set in. He found himself slumping forward, and eyes fluttering shut.

When he opened them next, it was morning, and he was lying in bed.

The warlock sat up so fast it left him momentarily dizzy. If he was in the bed, then where was Ryoma?

For one panic-stricken second, he thought it had all been a dream. But his left arm still ached faintly, a reminder of its exertions of the day before. He'd been out of practice.

Had the Hunters come while he'd been asleep? But then why would he still even be alive? Concern growing, he threw back the covers and hurried into the dining room.

The scene that greeted him was surreal. Ryoma was sitting at the table, still clad in clothes far too large for him, and Inui and Fuji were both seated across from him. He could spy Kawamura in the kitchen, apparently at work over the stove. They all turned when he entered the room. Fuji smiled – or rather, smiled wider. "Tezuka. How nice to see you up. Taka is making us breakfast!"

"Fuji, what is-"

"Your weird friends came over this morning. They've been explaining all this magic stuff." Ryoma slanted a glance at him and smirked. He was looking much better, though Tezuka's eyes still lingered on the healing cut just above the eye and the dark bruise visible where the shirt had slipped, exposing some of the collarbone. Perhaps it was fortunate they'd not directly encountered any Hunters on their way out. He might have been tempted to do some injury himself.

"You've been taking it rather well," he observed.

The former Hunter just shrugged slightly, then shifted in his seat a little, clearly uncomfortable. A blush was forming on his face, though why was anyone's guess.

Kawamura came to the rescue with five plates of a rather appetising breakfast. "Good morning Tezuka," he greeted cheerfully.

"Thank you," he said formally, accepting the offered food. "I am surprised to see you out of restaurant at this time."

His timid colleague just grinned, a little bashfully. "Well, when I heard that there was another fire-starter…"

"I've also been attempting to explain potions and divination to him all morning, but he does not seem even remotely interested." Inui appeared disappointed by this – Tezuka didn't know why, the man already had quite a capable apprentice.

"And he claims to have already figured out shape-shifting too. Such a shame," Fuji remarked. "Though the collar was cute." Ryoma choked on his food, and glared at the cheerful warlock. "Though not nearly as cute as finding Tezuka slumped next to the bed this morning." It was Tezuka's turn to glare. Fuji held up his hands disarmingly. "Saa, don't be like that. Since the kitten was awake, we figured you could use some proper sleep. I don't think you even realised how much magic you were using yesterday. You were subduing Hunters with magical blood with only your voice, Tezuka. That's how much power you were putting out."

That reminded him. "What happened in town?"

"No problems. The old woman was rather interested when she heard that the Echizen line had some survivors. She pulled some strings, and sent some people to clean up. Both of you shall be safe. Oishi and Kikumaru are in town taking care of it. Oishi will be dropping by later to take care of any injuries," Inui reported between mouthfuls.

"It will be good to see him again," Tezuka sighed, relieved that things would work out. He'd forgotten about the conveniences of their loose brotherhood under the old woman's mantle. He'd become so used to evading Hunters on his own that he'd forgotten that there were in fact others he could rely on as well.

"So then, that only leaves the matter of the kitten's training," Fuji quipped once everyone had finished eating. Tezuka locked glances with Ryoma again. _What are you going to do_?

"I think we'd best make ourselves scarce for a while. We'll be back with Oishi in a couple of hours," Fuji announced cheerfully. His friends all quietly got up and left the table. Tezuka saw them to the door. Ryoma stood as well, but didn't move away from the support of the chair, ankle obviously still sore.

Once they were gone, silence settled over the small house once again. He came back and stood a couple of steps away from his guest, feeling strangely awkward in his own house. Finally, Tezuka broke the silence. "You're really fine with it? You really want to learn how to become a warlock?"

"Yeah. My father was a really great warlock, right? I'm going to become even greater than him." He was relieved to hear the familiar cocky and arrogant tone of voice. It meant that the other man really was going to be okay.

"I see. In that case I… would be willing to teach you," he offered, hoping that his nerves weren't showing through his speech. "You could stay here. The house is bigger this time."

Silence. He couldn't read the other man's expression.

He cleared his throat. "Of course, if you want to go learn with someone else… I understand. I did take advantage of you. I do not deserve your forgiveness."

More silence. For a second, his heart sank. Truly, Ryoma was going to leave – probably get taken under the wing of the old woman and trained up, then disappear into the wilderness. He couldn't blame him. He'd played with the man's emotions, careless of the consequences all because he'd been a Hunter. Perhaps Ryoma was not the arrogant one after all. It was he who had been selfish, unwilling to give the source of his happiness up, even knowing the danger it would bring, and the pain it would inflict when the truth was outed.

Then a hand fisted itself in his shirt, and he was being jerked down and impaled on a warm golden stare.

"Idiot," he muttered. "You rescued me. Take responsibility."

"Ryoma…"

There was a blush on the younger man's face as he averted his eyes. "You know… even before I drank the tea… I… you know… so I'm not mad. Since I liked you anyway. I'm not mad."

Tezuka's fingers caught his chin, and tilted his face back towards him. "I never did formally confess my intentions, did I?"

Ryoma smirked. "Is there any point now?"

"No… I suppose not." He bent his head, but instead of meeting soft lips as he expected, suddenly found himself with a face full of fur.

A fluffy white Himalayan cat meowed in his arms. Tezuka adjusted his grip to better fit the feline form. Odd. He'd been expected something a bit more sleek and dangerous looking for Ryoma's cat form, not this terribly cute bundle of fluff.

"I thought you told Fuji you'd already mastered shape-shifting."

The peeved expression on the cat's face suggested that perhaps while the young warlock had figured out the basics of shape shifting from his impromptu stint the day before, the transformation happened mostly instinctively. He meowed again. Tezuka took that to mean to put him down so that he could change back. As he set the cat on the ground, though, Tezuka still had enough time to summon an object from the next room, and the instant Ryoma appeared before him in human form again, deft hands slid the collar with the bell back around his neck.

"So that if you go wandering around town as a cat, people will know that you belong to someone," he explained in a mildly amused voice.

Ryoma scowled, tugging at the collar a little, but didn't move to take it off. "You're surprisingly possessive, you know that?"

"So I've been told."

An arm slid around his neck. "It's been over two months, you know." The words sounded terribly close to a purr.

Tezuka swallowed, and admitted, "It feels like it has been longer."

"Then we have a lot of time to make up for."

"You're injured. And we should really start on your training."

"You're getting all responsible on me again now?" Ryoma took a step forward – though it was a bit jerky, due to his still sprained ankle - and pressed his weight against him. Tezuka didn't dare move.

"Oishi is supposed to be coming by soon…."

"Not for a couple of a hours."

"But-" Ryoma easily silenced his next half-hearted protest by pressing their lips together. There wasn't much hope for resistance after that.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Tezuka idly noted that they'd have to check to see if Ryoma didn't happen to have some powers of persuasion as well. It certainly bordered on magic.


End file.
